The Espada Chronicles
by Greendayluvr93
Summary: Have you ever wondered what the Espada were like while they were alive? Well, I've decided to tell you. They will not be in order and will be written when I get ideas or by requests. I will update when I can. Review to request the next Espada story.


A baby's wails rang out through the night mere seconds after his mother gave birth. They were loud, piercing and somewhat tragic. Unlike most children, he could not be handed to his

mother after the umbilical cord was cut. She was already dead because the childbirth was too much for her. Regrettably this bouncing baby boy with jet black hair would not be able to

meet his mother. Never would he utter the words "Mama." His father was caught in a bittersweet frenzy. He loved his precious son but he also missed his dear wife of five years. The son,

while he was a gift from God above, was also a reminder of his mother. He looked so much like her. That black hair, those green eyes, the shape of his face and the dimple in his chin all

reminded Jose of his precious Anna. Regardless, Jose treasured his son. "Ulquiorra." He said quietly to the doctor. "His name is Ulquiorra."

Years passed and Ulquiorra grew into a child. He was very quiet and abnormally withdrawn for a boy just shy of ten years old. In the short time he'd been alive, he had already learned

not to question his father about his mother. He was not allowed to say her name because it made his father upset. He didn't like it when that happened. His father was never, _ever_

abusive but the looks he would have on his face when Anna was mentioned was too much for Ulquiorra. He didn't like seeing his father so distraught. It really bothered the young boy so

he just avoided talking about anything that might bother his father. This eventually led to him barely talking at all. This habit of not talking stayed with him throughout grammar, middle

and high school.

He was never the popular one like Grimmjow, a classmate of his. In fact the situation was as far from that as possible. It began in his freshman year of high school. People would taunt

him, bully him, beat him up and steal from him. He agonized over it silence because, he reasoned, having a son that was teased and made fun of would fun of would be disgraceful and

trashy. Besides, the bullies were all refuse anyway. The garbage they spewed at him wouldn't matter. That's what he always thought until one day it got out of hand. It started with one

punch from one blue-haired bully then escalated to kicking and spitting from the crowd that had surrounded the two of them in the parking lot. It didn't take long; Ulquiorra was a fairly

small teenager. They beat him until he lost consciousness in that abandoned parking lot and left him to die. Of course, some of the kids panicked and called 911 but by the time

paramedics got there it was too late. The black haired teen had already passed away.

He did not move on to the afterlife most of us think of because of the nature of his death. He became a lost soul. Day by day, his anger and fury grew at the ones who had bullied him or

wanted to hurt him. While he kept his habit of being almost completely silence, his meek nature was gone. As a hollow he was not one to be toyed with. Sure the other hollows would try

things thinking that little Ulquiorra couldn't do a damn thing about it. Well, they were wrong. One way or another Ulquiorra always got revenge. Some he ate others he shamed by

becoming a higher rank than them.

Eventually he had eaten so many souls he was almost sure that he couldn't progress any farther. That was when Aizen, using his ill-gotten power, turned Ulquiorra into an Espada. The

first thing Ulquiorra did was nod then bow. Aizen was the first person, besides his father, to do a good thing for him. When he got the chance he looked at a mirror in his room at Las

Noches. He noted, with an apathetic expression, that aside from his coloring and the horn on his head, that he looked the same. The cyan tracks on his face didn't seem new to him. They

were streaks of clear tears a short time ago when he was human. Of course, nobody would know that, especially not the other Espada. More importantly Grimmjow would never know.

The near silent Espada would never allow it. Like the others, Grimmjow was trash. He had always been trash and always will be trash.

Ulquiorra rose to fourth and silently lorded his power of Grimmjow. He knew how inferior the blue haired Espada felt and how angry he must have been to be ranked below the man he

used to taunt in high school. Ulquiorra, the most apathetic and coldest of all the Espada, learned to be that way from four years of taunts and fights in high school. He learned to be silent

to keep from offending people but wound up using this silence to intimidate and mock. In a round about way, Ulquiorra had become the bully he loathed. He even hit those who were of a

lower rank when he felt the need to, but he was not garbage. He never fought unless he had to and he never spoke out of turn. In his own mind, he was not the bully. He was not the

one intimidating others with his unspoken threat of violence and his silent intimidation. He was not the one that others feared to anger. He was the one who made sure that anyone who

wanted to hurt him wound up hurt either physically or emotionally. He was not and never had been the bad guy. At least, that's what he thought.


End file.
